Green
by kindakukukat
Summary: What would happen to Beast Boy if Garfield Logan came back? Would he cease to exist? Would anyone even care?
1. Green

Pumpkin.

* * *

It's not easy being green.

I mean sure there are perks

like never getting pinched on Saint Patrick's Day

and always having the best "The Hulk" costume on Halloween,

but it's not all sunshine and rainbows.

Because it's not sunshine when the sun shines green

and it's not a rainbow if each abr is just another shade of green.

Look at it this way,

Do you ever get tired of hearing the same song?

Watching the same movie over and over?

How about seeing the same color (or colour for you non-murricans)

over and over

every time you open your eyes

every time you look in the mirror.

Everything.

Is that. **one.** **_color._**

He didn't know what he hated more,

the color

or the fact that everyone assumed he loved it.

Who in their right mind would love a color

so obnoxious, so hideously grotesque

so different, so _mutant_

Oh wait.

Of course they'd think he'd like the color.

This color and he were _practically synonymous._

After all, he was Beast Boy.

Cyborg got to go back once

back to being human.

Beast boy wanted to too.

No.

Garfield Logan wanted to too.

He couldn't actually remember being human

but surely

as a human

he wasn't

green.

That's why he was here,

in Cyborg's room,

sifting through his drawers

for that ring.

His salvation.

Cold steel met his gloved fingertips,

a stiff circle with a gaping hole in the center.

_Salvation._

The swift snatch of a fox

and he was gone.

Off to his safe haven,

not his room,

too green.

No, it was a small black slab of rock sitting in the middle of a blue ocean.

There was only enough room on the slab for one person,

him.

He sat alone

staring at the ring.

This small, seemingly insignificant

cheap-looking piece of metal

could change

_everything._

Should he?

Everything would change.

He wouldn't be BB anymore.

He wouldn't be a Titan.

He'd be human.

He'd be normal.

What if he couldn't take it off?

What if he didn't want to take it off?

What would happen to Beast Boy

when Garfield Logan came back?

Would he cease to exist?

Would anyone even care?

Certainly not Raven.

And sometimes

it felt like that was all that mattered.

Raven wouldn't care if BB was gone.

So maybe it's time for BB to make an exit.

Stage Left.

With new found determination Beast Boy clutched the ring tightly

and transformed.

A lone green raven

sailed towards the city

a sterling silver ring clasped in it's talons.

* * *

Just a little something I had fun writing. I'll probably continue it whether it gets good reviews or not so meh.


	2. Bwar

I wanted to write more so I did. It's nowhere near as poetic as the first chapter was. Will be continued if I feel like it.

* * *

The young titan landed in an alley way, his body shifting painfully back into anthropomorphic form. It didn't hurt as much as it used to back when he first started changing. Pain numbs with time.

Beast Boy glanced down at his old doom patrol jumpsuit; even if he weren't… green he'd still be recognizable with this. He needed civilian clothes. Tucking the ring safely away into his pocket, he transformed into a dog: a green dog. Beast dog sprinted out onto the street and weaved through peoples' legs, rapidly glancing at stores for an ideal stop. Something that wasn't green.

A bright red and black logo caught his eye. The windows were lined with clothes largely consisting of black. Quite frankly the severe lack of green would've been enough for him but wearing the type of clothes Raven liked just made it all the better.

Besides he was feeling pretty dark right now. Sneaking through the open door the canine slowly stalked around the floor. Nevermind the fact he was bright green and stuck out like a sore thumb in a store decorated with and consisting of black.

A t-shirt and jeans, that was all he needed. He could keep using his doom patrol boots, they were normal enough. Beast dog spotted a pair of pants folded sloppily on a side shelf. They looked like they'd fit. Probably. He didn't actually know what size he was, seeing as he'd never gone shopping for clothes. Ever. The green dog quickly took hold of them in his maw and continued trotting around the store.

Yanking a random black shirt off a rack, he glanced at the cashier. Some teenager with multicolor hair was asleep on the counter.

Thats fortunate.

Calmly waltzing out of the store, Beast dog took a wary look up and down the street before darting into an alley. Shifting back into human form, beast boy growled as he felt his suit replace his fur. It was tight, like a second skin. Actually it technically was a second skin, seeing as it morphed with him. It'd been so long since he actually felt the breeze on his mutant skin.

Glancing around embarrassedly Beast boy made sure no one was around and then stripped off his past. He could feel part of who he was come off with him as he peeled the purple and grey fabric from his green torso. A soft breeze drifted through the alley, lightly brushing his barren skin. Beast Boy smiled.

He felt so serene standing in a random alley in nothing but his boxers.

Snapping out of his trance the teen quickly slipped on the pants and shirt, not actually looking at either of them. They felt so loose! He felt so free! With a wide grin he flailed his arms about, admiring the rush of air against his still newly exposed arms. This was fantastic.

Reaching into his jumpsuit's pocket for his ring he instead found his T-Communicator. The teen froze, staring at the piece of technology. This was his last connection to them.

If he kept it they'd find him.

But if he didn't they wouldn't.

So the question was did he want to be found? He clenched his fists angrily, indecision consuming him. His eyes found an empty green bottle, a wretched ugly green bottle.

No.

He was done being green. Being that color.

He took a naturally sharpened nail and carved a curt message into the worn metal cover. The green teen then flippantly chucked it landed on the back seat of some convertible stopped at a light. Smiling he gently took the ring from the pocket, sliding a finger gently down the side. He filled his green lungs with their last breath and slipped the ring on.


	3. Tan

I felt like it.

Pumkpin.

* * *

He couldn't actually see himself change, but he could feel it. A sharp tingle raced up his arm from the cold metal band on his finger. The prickling sensation consumed him and for a second he couldn't move. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. His pink lungs filled with air. As the feeling subsided he opened his eyes and looked down at his palms.

He was tan.

Not Dorito-Orange tan but natural tan.

TAN.

He'd never even considered what color his skin would be if not green; he just didn't want it to be green and now he finds out he's fucking tan! It's fantastic! A grin stretched from ear to ear as he marvelled at his new complexion.

He knew, he just knew that as a human he was smokin' hot. Beast Boy had been a monstrosity, but Garfield Logan? Damn, he was a fine piece of tofu! He slicked his hair back before realizing his hair was a new color too.

The teen couldn't wait to see what color his hair was. Black? Brown? Blonde? Red? Red sounded cool! He and Star could ma-

He froze, his smile dropping. Star… He wasn't Beast Boy anymore.

He was Garfield Logan. Star didn't know Garfield Logan.

Neither did Cyborg.

Or Robin.

Or Raven…

But he couldn't be with them. He was green with them.

He isn't green anymore.

Shoving his fists deep into his pockets, he ambled down the street, for once fitting in. His eyes tracked his doom patrol boots as they shuffled along the cement. The light grey scruffing against the rough material.

A sudden explosion knocked Garfield off his feet, the force pushing his lithe human form to the ground. An evil cackle rattled the air as the dust and debris settled.

The teen's muscles tensed, preparing for a fight. Tapping into whatever it was that made him change, he waited for a soliloquy of how "foolish" he was to attempt to hide himself. Without a doubt the villain would use the word "foolish."

"Attention foolish citizens!" Nailed it, "I am GAME FREAK. All of you petty civilians, BOW DOWN TO ME."

Petty civilians... ?

He didn't see Garfield? He didn't recognize him? Holy crap, he looked normal. He practically was normal!

The teen had to fight down a smile as he lost concentration on transforming. His good mood shattered when he heard a child nearby cry. Garfield couldn't just stand-by, could he? He had the ability to stop Game Freak, but does that mean he should?

Game Freak's eyes turned to the child, then landed on Garfield nearby. He stared at him. Did he realize a teen titan had been there all along? Game Freak's possessed technology carried him down till he was face-level with Garfield. The retired hero tensed, once again preparing to transform. The obese young man's stare pierced through the teen's eyes and the villain opened his mouth to speak.

"Dude! I love your shirt! Where'd you get it?"

Garfield faltered again, his concentration slipping from his grasp.

"Uhh… that store?" he said, motioning towards the black and red logo down the street.

"Really?" the villain asked excitedly, his gaze shifting to the store, "They had the BB shirt in stock? I tho-" Game Freak's jubilant speech was cut off as a possessed car rammed into his side and sent the young man flying into a building.

Completely unfazed, Garfield simply stood still, not even flinching. A pale, cloaked teen levitated down in front of him as though to check on him. Her brilliant lavender eyes glanced the teen over, confirming he was uninjured before lingering slightly over his shirt.

"I like your shirt." she muttered before flying back into the fray. A bright red blush lit Garfield's tan cheeks as he watched his dream girl meditate away.

As other civilians ran from the battle as Game Freak countered, the ex-teen titan stood still. For once he was watching the battle from the outside, Garfield wondered if his team would even need him in the fight.

Surely not. He tended to hinder more than help. It didn't matter anymore. Beast Boy didn't exist. Just Garfield.

It was time to let go.

He turned away from the battle, meandering leisurely despite the explosions sounding and debris ricocheting around him. He remained untouched.

The teen's thoughts briefly drifted to his oversized shirt; both Game Freak and Raven, although more importantly Raven, had told him that they liked this shirt. What was so special about it?

Glancing down a bright splash of green struck him. He couldn't process the image as he was still trying to force himself to get over the color. A mental motivational pep talk reminding the teen he was no longer green allowed Garfield to look again.

Wow. Now that's irony.

On the t-shirt was a picture of Beast Boy, halfway through the transformation into a tiger. The universe just loves it's irony, doesn't it? He swears, he lives in the universe created by Dave Strider or something.

Garfield wasn't about to go back and steal another shirt, besides if he kept this shirt it'd be kinda poetic- Raven liked poetic- about how he was moving on from his past and stuff.

Turning the corner the ex-do-gooder breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't bother glancing back at his old team; they clearly had it handled. They didn't need him.

He was free from the responsibility.

It was a shame that a particularly loud truck had driven right past Garfield at that moment, otherwise he would've heard a worried shout from the girl of his dreams.

"Where is Beast Boy?!"


	4. Lion

Wow, it has been a while. Hope people don't hate me. Typing it up is the worst part.

Don't own anything copyrighted.

Pumpkin.

* * *

Garfield confidently strode down the streets. He was just so comfortable, finally being normal, finally fitting in. With what just happened he'd officially confirmed that no one, not even his old team mates, could recognize Garfield.

It was almost… depressing that they couldn't couldn't recognize him anymore; it's not like the teen changed his face or his hair or anything except his colors. The fact they couldn't tell who the boy was proved they'd never really bothered with him. All they saw when looking at him was that horrendous color, his stigma; a single glance at the color and they blindly accepted that as his sole characteristic, his identity. No one looked at his face, no one looked at him; even when they tried all they saw was green.

Ha. He'd moved past that color. Garfield was beyond green. Garfield was also unemployed and homeless. Yeah, he should probably look into that.

The teen continued down the street, glancing at the shops in hope of a 'Help Wanted' sign. It was a worn-down shop that caught his eye; colorful chipped paint decorated the windows proclaiming "cute animals!" and "excellent pet care and goods!" but most importantly there was a bland white sign leaning against the storefront with those two magical words scrawled on it.

Working at a pet store could be fun. And so with his chin held high, Garfield marched confidently into the shop. As soon as the teen entered, hundreds of voices hit him with the force of a speeding truck.

"Person!"

"Person?"

"Person!"

"New guy!"

"Pick me!"

"I'm so cute!~"

"Fuck off."

"Person!"

"I don't even care anymore."

"Over here!"

"Yooo-hooo~ Over heereeee~!"

The voices assailed him, pelting him from all sides with desperate enthusiasm that had him frantically flubbering to find the crowd that wouldn't let him be.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Me! You! Hey! Me! Hey!" called a particularly loud voice to his left. "Hey! Over here! Hey!" Garfield whipped his head to the side to find the owner of the voice, only to see a kennel of puppies. One puppy, ginger in color with up-turned ears and a curled tail, seemed delighted by the attention. "Yeah! Over here! Me! See! See me! Me! Pick me!" the ginger puppy seemed to shout at him- the teen blinked, it wasn't that the puppy seemed to be shouting at him, the puppy was shouting at him.

The boy quickly took another look around the room, realizing all the animals were talking to him. This was… new.

Garfield looked down at the ring, wondering if this was part of it's abilities. While it made Cyborg look human, it technically gave him an alternate power. So maybe in the same way it change a man of metal into stone, it changed the animal shape-shifter into the animal whisperer.

Okay, so maybe Garfield wasn't human, but at least he was beyond that color; he was closer to being human than he ever was before so maybe its okay that he wasn't 100% there.

He was just a special human, thats all. The teen could live with that. A little ways into the store, up against the leftmost wall was a shiny, sterile sales counter. Behind that was an old woman.

Her stark white hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head and held in place with two colorful chopsticks, although she didn't seem to be of Asian descent. The woman's face was pruned with wrinkles and small spots akin to freckles seemed to be sprinkled over her cheeks and nose; she had bright (ugh) green eyes behind thick, round glasses.

Garfield approached her slowly, trying to avoid looking in her eyes which bore the color he so thoroughly detested.

"E-excuse me… I'm looking for work and I saw your sign so…" he stuttered.

The woman didn't say anything, instead staring straight into his eyes. She was challenging him, daring him to make eye contact.

Stubbornly, Garfield couldn't back down; he was past that color now; he didn't need to be afraid. Sucking in a deep breath the boy tightened his fists and glared right into her irises. Rather than upset the old shopkeeper seemed amused, a crooked grin grew on her crinkled copper lips.

"I can pay ten dollars an hour… if you prove yourself worthy," she laughed with a heavy accent, it sounded akin to Ugandan, "but I must warn you, no one has ever proven themselves worthy." She rose from her seat behind the counter much more gracefully than one would expect and, once she was standing up straight, Garfield realized she was monstrously tall. Towering over him, the lady smiled. "I'm Ms. Busara and you are?"

"G-Garfield Logan." The teen tried pulling his shoulders back and tilting his chin up to muster up some semblance of dignity. Ms. Busara only quirked an eyebrow at his unusual name before guiding him back to the animals near the front of the store.

A cheerful chorus of "Mommy"s sounded as she approached, her green eyes scanning over each of the animals carefully. The woman settled on a cage holding a small snake, coiled tightly into a ball. Grinning, she turned to him and gestured to the reptile. Garfield stared back blankly before realizing her wordless instructions. He scooted up to the tank, the rubber of his boots squeaking loudly against the linoleum floor. Pausing, the teen made no move to pull the snake from its enclosure, instead choosing to stare into its red marble eyes. Its solid white, scales rippled with its muscles tensing apprehensively.

"Stupid human," it whispered, its tongue lightly flicking out, "like you'd actually pass her test. You look especially stupid, even for a human."

Narrowing his eyes, Garfield hissed under his breath, "look who is talking, what kind of dorky camouflage is that? Do you figure a snowstorm is coming through? How hasn't Darwin's theory of evolution weeded you out yet?" For a moment the snake was shocked into being frozen solid.

"That was incredibly lame, I'm legitimately overcome with how lame that was. I am drowning in a sea of lameness from that one comeback."

"Y-yeah?!" Gar wasn't whispering anymore, "well, how do you think I feel talking to some la-" He was cut off by the woman's hand on his shoulder. The look in her eyes- if you could get past the hideous color- spoke volumes. Somehow she knew- or maybe it was obvious; he was just in a pissing contest with a snake (and losing).

The woman lead him up the steps in the back of the store. The well-cared for stairs opened up into the second floor. Immediately Garfield was confronted by the tribal masks lining one of the walls of the living room. The wooden furniture was in no way ornate- function was it's sole purpose. Instead colorful patterned rugs and blankets flared with aesthetics and balanced the simple chairs and benches. A wooden bookshelf was coated in colorful tribal knick-knacks and thick books.

Nostalgia rushed over the teen in waves. This was just like home: Garfield's home in Africa with his parents.

"I'm not exactly from around here as you noticed," the woman spoke softly, trying not to draw attention away from the majesty that was the atmosphere of the room, "I didn't want to forget my roots when I moved to America. Hope you don't find it strange." Her voice spoke volumes; she knew he loved it. His eyes turned to hers excitedly as though he had suddenly remembered something.

"Wh-where's your bathroom?" the ex-titan asked. He could finally look in a mirror. He could finally meet Garfield Logan face to face. His new caretaker simply nodded to the first door to his right down a brief hallway. Garfield scrambled to the dark door, swinging it open and immediately fumbling for the lightswitch.

With a quick click the lights came on and the teen came face to face with himself. He had sunshine for hair! Or was that gold? Who knew?! Running his hands through it excitedly, the boy marvelled at his golden blonde hair. It wasn't that light yellow- duckling yellow- like Terra's but almost kinda orange. No- he knew what it was, it was a golden lion's mane, a color that could only come from the Savannah.

He'd been dead right when he called Garfield Logan a hunk. But then his eyes dropped down from his hair and into his irises.

No. No. NO! Why?!

Without realizing it, the teen threw a punch at the mirror, shattering it. He was yelling something-words- he'd gone so far, he'd thrown away everything just so he could stop being that color. Yet there it was. Hiding in plain sight.

The shopkeeper had run to him now, cradling his crumpled form in her arms as she dabbed at his bloodied hand with a nearby towel. She was speaking Afrikaans to him, her soft cooing calming him down. Glancing at the shards embedded in his knuckles the woman sighed.

"You're going to need stitches," she paused, "plus you owe me a mirror."


	5. Mall

Has it been forever? Yes. Sorry.

Pumpkin.

* * *

"Guys!" The chipper voice of the Titans' equivalent of a class clown echoed loudly through the corridor. In unison each of the other four member in the ops room expressed their dismay at the arrival of the walking nuisance. Robin's brow furrowed slightly. Cyborg frowned and huffed a little as he prepared to hide the meats. Starfire bit her lip and glared somewhat guiltily at the floor. Raven let ut the tiniest sigh disguised as regular breathing while flipping to the next page of her book. Honestly, couldn't he- "Guys, you'll never guess what I learned how to do!" He stood happily in the doorway of the ops room.

The empath couldn't stop herself. "Learned how to read?" Ouch, that had to hurt. Yet Beast Boy remained still, smile frozen on his face as he waited for someone to guess- trapped in silence until someone guessed.

"Look, Beast Boy," the leader spoke now, his tone harsh and uninterested, "we're really busy right now. We don't have time for your games." Unblinking, the green titan remained frozen.

Cyborg stepped up to the plate. "C'mon man!" He pleaded, "just tell use! The suspense is killing me!" The robot couldn't care less but he pitied his little green tagalong- Raven could feel it. Still, this seemed to appease the changeling as he suddenly jump started back to life.

"Look!" His childish voice was full of excitement as his cloth bound arms reached back behind his neck. The empath saw certain muscles contract, meaning he'd grabbed something. Probably just a projectile pie or water balloon filled with sludge but, unwittingly, the girl was beginning to feel curious. "I figured out," Beast Boy paused with a wide smile before yanking forward whatever he'd grasped behind his neck. Doubling over violently, it was revealed that the teen was peeling away his own green skin in a sheet.

They wanted to stop him. They all wanted to stop whatever was happening but none of them could move. His grey gloved hands had pulled the flesh up off himself on his neck and peeled away the hair and scalp on the back of his head, all still in one piece. With another sharp tug. the boy managed to strip away the rest of the scalp and the face. Righting himself, the teens didn't see a horrifying mass of blood, muscle, and sinew but a tan teen with BB's features and blonde hair smiling at them. Raven gawked as the stranger shrugged out of the green skin encasing him before finally throwing it in a heap on the floor.

It was the boy she'd seen when battling Game Freak. His grin widened as he tilted his slightly to the side. "What's wrong, Rae?" Whatever answer she'd been prepared to give was cut off by a horrifying screech emanating from the mass of grass colored flesh piled on the floor. It seemed to prickle and began to shake violently. The skin bulged as a new creature seemed to rise and take form from it. It reminded the girl of the Beast, but where the large creature that'd saved her before operated mostly on instinct, this new monster was filled with malice.

The blonde teenager didn't seem at all bothered by whatever monstrosity he'd created. Still smiling widely, he repeated his question. "What's wrong," the green beast lurched back into a pouncing stance as his hollowed eye sockets stared at the empath, "Rae?" The creature rocketed towards her with a strangled screech ripping from it's throat.

Violently sitting up, to the point of getting whiplash, the empath gasped desperately. As the surrounding dark, familiar room calmed her, the girl fought to recognize what she'd seen as a dream.

"Azarath," she whispered in a hushed tone, desperate to get her emotions under control, "metrion zinthos." A deep breath. Repeat. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos." So what if Beast Boy had gone missing for a day? "Azarath Metrion Zinthos." He'd show up eventually- probably with some wild tale of how his stupidity got him into trouble. "Azarath Metrion ZInthos." He'd laugh. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos." She'd grumble. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos." It would be okay. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos." She had nothing to be scared of. "Azara-" It's not like she cared all that much, "th Metrion Zin-" right? "thos."

* * *

The woman smiled at the boy draped across her couch. He was fast asleep, snoring lightly in a way that reminded her of a small animal. It was adorable. Not adorable enough, however, to stop her from whipping out a pot and a pan and loudly bashing them together above his head. With a yelp the blonde teen righted himself, immediately losing balance and crumpling to the floor.

"Morning already?" The young man asked as he dragged himself to a sitting position while rubbing at his swollen eyes. A night of crying had puffed and pinked his eyelids in a way they'd never been before. He'd had his sclera turned pink by mother mae-eye before however this was different. It was necessarily a pleasant feeling but the novelty of the experience made Garfield appreciate it.

"Yes," the woman set the pans down before reaching a copper hand out to her underling. "As my live-in worker there are some rules accompanying your work." Once he was standing, albeit wobbly, she continued. "For example, going to school." Pulling a stack of papers from a nearby table to hand to him. "This is paper work for you to take tests to see what classes you'll be taking at the local high school along with your registration papers. You have a few hours before your shift starts so I recommend working on it now." Glancing down at the boy's pajamas, which was, in reality, only his boxer shorts, his boss turned back to return to a room farther in. "Something tells me you're going to need a new set of clothes otherwise you'll be in the same ridiculous ensemble you were wearing yesterday."

"Ridiculous?" Garfield sputtered as he examined the black pile that was his only set of clothes. "I thought I looked cool." He'd wanted to be like Raven- to mimic her style and perhaps understand her better from this paradigm even if they were to never meet again.

"You wore no color except green and black, the construction was lazy and so very American." The woman chastised as she dug through a carpet. "Entirely too normal and absolutely boring." She looked over her back at the teen. "Not like you at all." A colorful tunic was chucked at the blonde's head. "Now that-" his boss gestured proudly, "that is Garfield."

Examining the clothing the boy couldn't stop a smile. "I like it."

"Pants are in the same closet. I'll leave that choice up to you." Dusting off her dress the woman started her way down the stairs. "Food is in the fridge. The fridge is in the kitchen. The kitchen is down that hallway to your left. Now fill out that paperwork!"

In the kitchen, Garfield stared at the stack in front of him. Taking the top sheet, he began to ponder. "School…" the teen mumbled wistfully while staring at the white sheet of paper that was slowly crumpling in his hands. "I wonder if it's like the way it is on TV?" His eyes wandered to the ceiling as Garfield recalled how television portrays school: boring, academics secondary to drama, vicious cliques and social hierarchies, and the occasional inspirational teacher. Excitement caused his tanned fingers to bunch into fists. "Aw man! I can't wait!"

Tossing the paper back on the table, the boy finished his breakfast quickly.

Throwing his work apron over his colorful clothing, the teen let himself enjoy the draft of open air on skin. Honestly, the ex-hero couldn't get enough of the sensation of freedom that civilian clothes wrought.

Manning the counter was easy enough. Most potential customers only entered to coo at the puppies before leaving. Some would buy pet food or toys. He'd make pleasant conversation with those patrons as he placed their items in paper bags and handed them their change. Small children would frequently enter to stare wide-eyed at the various animals. The animals themselves were kind enough that is except for the snake from yesterday whose name he now knew to be Sylvester.

"Look at the human," the reptile called out mockingly as the teen punched a few random buttons on the cash register, "playing with the dumb human machine. You bored, dumb human?" Since there were a few humans in the room, the animal whisperer couldn't respond. "Oh, not talking, huh? Well, too bad. I'm going to make fun of you and you can't do anything about it." The blonde tried his hardest not to openly scowl as the snake tossed insults his way. "You're incredibly ugly. Even for a mammal, you're beyond normal ugly. You have to be the ultimate form of ugly in your culture." Something about the snake's syntax tipped Garfield off. Tilting his head to the side, he observed the volatile reptile. "I've never had to watch an uglier creature than you. You're probably brain dead. I don't think you know how to think. Everything about you- why are you looking at me?"

Garfield's stare intensified as his eyes bore into the legless animal. He seemed to tense and coil up from his gaze. Suddenly an epiphany hit the teen over the head. "You!" He said in a quiet voice that had the same gravel as a yell. "I figured you out!" Holding back a laugh, the blonde pointed at the snake, "you won't say any words with an s in them!"

"Wrong!" The snake hissed as he turned his head away. "Not true at all. I able perfectly capable of-"

"Saying something with an s?" The ex-hero said with an evil grin. "So, shouldn't you just say it? I'm listening." A little bit of a sing-song tone went into his tone there.

"HEY! I don't appreciate your tone."

"Silly, Sylvester, there's no s-words in that phrase." The reptile glowered at the human. "What's that? Do you want me to stop? Just say it. Say stop. Sssstop." Instead the ball python curled tightly into a sphere and buried his head in his body. The blonde leant next to the plexiglass terrarium. Resting his chin on his forearms folded on top of the small table, he spoke "Hey, Sylvester, sorry. I was just giving you a hard time. I didn't mean anything by it."

One red eye peeked out from the mass of white. "Sssseriously?"

The boy grinned widely. "Ssssseriously."

"No. Sssstop. Don't make fun of my ssssspeech impediment." The ball python said angrily as he removed his head from his incredibly long coiled chest.

"Okay, okay." The teen said as he stood back up. "I apologize."

"Thank you." The two fell into silence for a little bit, watching a little girl across the room coo at puppies as her mother scrolled through HeadDictionary posts on her phone. "What'ssss your sssstory?" Garfield glanced down at the snake. "Why'd you jusssst ssshow up here and ssssuddenly move in? What'd you leave behind? What are you running from?"

"I," the blonde bit his lip. "I'm not ready to talk about that yet." Looking away, the human continued, "maybe when it isn't so fresh in my mind it'll be easier to talk about." A moment of silence passed. "I'll tell you then."

The rest of his shift passed rather peacefully. Sylvester was an interesting guy and Garfield was starting to consider the snake the closest thing he had to a friend. He was a little rough around the edges but easy to warm up to. Plus the wisecracks the reptile was constantly making about the customers in the shop made the teen's job quite enjoyable.

"It's the end of my shift." The boy said as he stretched his spine out with his hands in the air. "Any chance you know what humans my age do in their free time around here?"

"They alwayssss seem to be going in one direction on the ssssstreet. I'd jusssst follow the crowdsss and ssssee where they take you." It was as good of advice as any. He hung his apron on a hook on the wall behind the counter and walked out of the store. Immediately spotting a group of high schooler girls giggling loudly he began to trail behind them, trying to look like he knew where he was going. Soon enough the flock of teens had lead him to a large complex he was a little familiar with from his time as a Titan- the mall.

He'd never been able to just stroll through the mall with even treating him as though he was invisible before. It'd always been too crowded for Beast Boy but Garfield was perfectly content with the anonymity that encompassed his existence. Walking into the huge building, it dawned on the teen that he could finally wear a mask and have it mean something. He added 'attend a masquerade party' to his mental checklist of things to do as a normal before letting his gaze wander over the people around him. Cliques comprised of teenagers of different types and differing levels of authenticity were around him on all sides. Where would he fall?

A girl dressed entirely in black stood alone outside a hot topic trying to covertly glance at some of the Doctor Whom merchandise displayed in the window. She noticed his gaze upon her and scowled before turning her head and marching into the store towards cliche goth paraphernalia. Would he be a goth or outcast?

A group of burly jocks were walking out of a Sports Force. One in particular, the beefiest of the group, spotted the scrawny blonde looking at him and gave a curt nod. Would he join a sports team and become an athlete?

A rather short teen, almost Garfield's height, was walking out of a nearby Pear store with a Mecbook in his hands. It was open, exposing it's shiny metal insides to the world and one of the pieces inside seemed distinctly different from the rest; it was easy to tell the boy had added it himself. He seemed to be muttering to himself while glaring angrily at the store behind him. When he looked up and saw the stranger he rose an eyebrow curiously before turning back to the laptop in his hands. Would he become a geek or nerd or some kind of tech specialist?

A flock of giggling cheerleaders were sprawled all around one of the benches situated in the middle of the wing. Each was surrounded by various shopping bags from brand name clothing stores. The tallest one of the group noticed Garfield and offered him a friendly smile before turning back to speak more with her friends. Would he become popular and preppy?

Garfield couldn't stop the grin that blossomed on his face as he took a deep breath.

What would Garfield be?


End file.
